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IN  BATTERY  PARK. 


BY 


ALBERT  RUPP. 


1901: 
HENRY   MALKAN, 

I    WIIiLIAM  ST., 
NEW  YORK. 


IN  BATTERY  PARK. 


BY 


ALBERT  RUPP 


1901: 
HENRY   MALKAN, 

I    WILLIAM  ST., 
NEW  YORK. 


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COPYRIGHTED    IQOI, 
BY 


ALBERT    RUPP. 


IN   BATTERY  PARK, 


BY 


ALBERT  RUPP. 


i. 

Oh,  man  !  thou  world-tramp  of  eternity ! 

Thou  freedom-pilgrim  of  a  stormy  way ! 
What  hopes  and  longings  after  liberty 

Have  spurred  thee  'round  the  earth,  and  filled  thy  day 

With  fierce  adventure !     What  a  mighty  fray 
Hast  thou  been  waging  through  the  changing  years, 

As  ever  out  of  despotism's  sway 
Thou  hast  retreated,  to  endure  the  fears 
Of  newer  scenes,  and  solve  the  causes  of  thy  tears  ! 


II. 


How  hast  thou  peopled  deserts  to  escape 

Thy  tyrant-blighted  homes,  and  still  the  wrong 
Did  follow  in  the  same  oppressing  shape, 

And  helplessly  thou  did'st  flee  its  prong ! 

How  hast  thou  been  so  weak  and  yet  so  strong, 
To   suffer  persecutions   violent. 

And  through  experiences  sad  and  long, 
To  cross  the  wilds  of  every  continent, 
And  brave  the  angry  breasts  of  oceans  turbulent ! 


III. 


But  foolishness  and  pain  have  ever  been 

Thy  richest  benefactors,  to  obtain 
The  ends  for  which  thou  art ;  and  strife  and  sin 

Have  been  the  surest  builders  of  thy  gain, 

In  coping  back  to  Asia  whence  the  strain 
Of  evils  drove  thee.    Thy  adversity 

Is  what  has  made  thee  run  life's  rounding  chain, 
To  fitter  orders  of  civility, 
In  working  out  thy  vast  and  wonderous  destiny. 


444167 


IV. 

And  love  has  ever  made  thee  larger  grow, 
And  face  the  future  with  a  fierce  desire, 
To  live  and  onward  plot  through  coils  of  woe, 
That  never  ceased  with  hunger,  war  and  fire, 
To  goad  thee  harder  and  to  press  thee  higher 
Along  the  toilsome  way.    Oh,  race  of  man  ! 
"'•  a»*.     How  ar-t.th.op  iji  thy  history  entire 
I  *.«*A  restive 'W^rkferer  compelled  to  span, 
,  Through  'disappointing  days,  a  dark  mysterious  plan ! 

{.:  '-i.J/V  .: 

v. 

How  art  thou  but  a  seeker  after  what 

Lies  just  beyond  thy  frail  and  feeble  reach  ! 

Drawn  on  by  hope  thou  longest  for  a  lot, 
Which  past  events  in  awful  chapters  teach 
Comes  not  for  all  thy  powers  to  beseech ; 

And  through  the  blinding  floods  of  countless  tears 
It  shineth  from  afar,  and  bids  thee  stretch 

Thy  weary  members  after  it,  as  years 

Revolve  and  leave  thee  still  hemmed  in  a  web  of  fears. 


VI. 


And  with  the  changing  seasons  knocked  and  hurled, 

From  place  to  place  in  cruel  agony, 
Around  the  jagged  corners  of  the  world — 

Here  crossed  by  blasting  pains,  that  mockingly 

Gouge  from  thy  flesh  its  meanest  luxury; 
And  there  thy  choicest  attributes  of  mind, 

Seared  in  pursuits  of  love  and  liberty — 
Thou  art  a  restless  traveler  consigned 
To  roam,  and  for  thy  peace  no  habitation  find. 


VII. 


Behold  from  Europe's  old  and  hardened  state, 

Burdened  with  kings  and  aristocracy, 
The  freedom-seekers  through  this  spacious  gate 

Come  madly  questing  for  democracy. 

Poor,  ignorant,  deformed  by  tyranny, 
With  bodies  bent  in  drudgery  as  slaves, 

They  land  and  hope  with  fickle  imagry 
To  have  what  right  to  live  their  nature  craves, 
Released  from  all  the  wrong  which  murders  and  depraves. 


VIII. 

Thus  out  of  Asia  did  their  sires  move 

In  search  of  justice,  and  through  many  years 
Sojourned  and  journeyed.     Now  they  spread,  and  throve; 

And  Egypt  'rose  the  offspring  of  their  tears. 

Now  through  immense  reverses,  trials,  fears, 
They  built  up  Greece.     Now  Italy  and  Spain 

Grew  beautiful  by  toil,  and  the  careers 
Of  Europe's  nations  thus  for  human  pain, 
Mounted  and  fell  as  man  for  liberty  did  strain. 


IX. 


The  exodus  goes  on — sad,  mighty,  grand. 

This  harbor  of  the  ships  of  every  sea 
Harbors  the  indigent  of  every  land, 

Who  king-sick  hereward  flock,  to  live  and  be 

No  more  beset  by  fraud  and  villainy ; 
To  find  at  last  the  peace  and  happiness, 

Which  fancy  to  their  lot  of  agony 
Portrays  ineffable  with  gorgeousness. 
Alas !  how  hopes  the  mind  that  rankles  in  distress ! 


X. 


Alas  !  how  must  they  stand  insulting  ills, 
For  empty  prospects  of  some  future  bliss, 

As  on  from  land  to  land  their  purpose  wills 
Them  to  proceed !     In  ever-present  stress, 
Wearied  and  tired  by  an  endlessness 

Of  unrelaxing  tortures,  still  they  roam; 
Compelled  to  seek  in  vain  the  blessedness 

Of  here,  then  there,  then  'yond  a  joyful  home, 

Which  always  is  to  be  and  ever  is  to  come. 


XL 

But  yet  such  strife  is  not  in  man  alone. 

'Tis  universal  from  the  blade  of  grass, 
That  bickers  for  its  life  in  cracks  of  stone, 

And  withers  ere  the  burning  Summer  pass, 

To  animals  of  huge  and  monster  class, 
That  shake  the  earth  with  their  ungainly  forms, 

And  hold  their  lives  through  several  centuries,  as 
They  fight  their  pestering  foes  of  beasts  and  worms, 
And  seek  their  weal  against  earth's  shocks  and  floods  and  storms. 


XII. 

To  be  is  to  be  pushed  and  tasked  and  pained, 

With  burdens  and  responsibilities. 
We  are  because  we  suffer,  and  are  chained 

By  circumstances  to  the  miseries 

Which  we  must  tussle  with.    Before  us  ease 
Forever  beckons  to  its  kindly  arms. 

Behind  us  kicks,  and  thrusts,  and  enmities 
Force  us  along;  and  thus  twixt  blows  and  charms 
We  seek  for  bliss,  and  flee  our  ever-threatening  harms. 


XIII. 

Poor  emigrant !  think  you  that,  for  yon'  light 

Held  by  the  goddess  of  sweet  Liberty, 
The  earth  is  here  exempt  from  sin  and  night, 

And  from  all  artifice  and  anguish  free? 

That  idol,  of  the  souls  who  seek  to  be 
Unhampered  by  the  troubles  of  the  world, 

But  bodies  forth  a  race-wide  imagry ; 
And  at  its  very  base  mankind  is  hurled, 
Through  mazes  of  distress  in  constant  tortion  whirled. 


XIV. 

Thou  comest  here  to  make  another  tale 

Of  Europe  and  when  thou  art  dead  and  gone 
Thy  children  shall  remake  it  through  the  vale 

Of  tears,  as  they  to  blessedness  grope  on. 

For  from  the  shining  of  the  splendid  sun, 
To  the  transactions  of  a  molecule, 

Continuous  battles  after  rest  are  run ; 
And  peace  is  not,  and  thou  obey'st  the  rule 
That  wisely  governs  thee,  yea,  even  to  being  a  fool. 


XV. 


But  by  such  pressing  states  of  things  we  grow, 

Acquiring  new  faculties  to  rise, 
Against  the  causes  of  our  pain  and  woe, 

Augmenting  better  seeing  to  our  eyes, 

Thus  making  light  whereby  we  may  devise 
Still  higher  powers  to  o'ercome  the  ill, 

That  howe'er  high  our  course  of  progress  flies 
Is  ever  'round  us,  and  with  awful  skill 
Seeks  not  in  vain  our  little  lives  to  blight  and  kill. 


XVI. 

Sweet  Liberty !  what  longings  after  thee 
Have  raised  up  men  with  race-reforming  might ! 

What  kindness  and  what  inhumanity 
Hast  thou  inspired  in  the  name  of  right, 
From  feeble  plottings  of  the  slave  at  night, 

To  eleutheromania  of  the  mass, 

Which  frenzied  for  the  tasting  of  thy  light, 

Made  bonfires  out  of  thrones  and  broke  like  glass 

Scepters  and  crowns,  that  dared  their  trumpery  to  pass ! 


XVII. 

What  souls  like  Socrates  hast  thou  brought  forth, 
To  reason  for  the  truth  in  field  and  street ; 

Or  Jefferson,  who  for  his  country's  worth, 
Lived  cogently  and  strove  to  make  complete 
The  welfare  of  his  fellows!    Yet  how  fleet 

Hast  thou  been  to  evade  their  grandest  plan ! 
And  smiling  still  as  noble  and  as  sweet 

As  centuries  ago,  how  is  poor  man 

As  far  from  thee  to-day  as  when  his  march  began ! 


XVIII. 

Lo !  there  in  hazy  distance  lies  the  sea, 

Which  cuts  the  world  in  two,  and  makes  this  shore 
A  new  arena,  where  humanity 

Can  focus  in  one  nation,  to  explore 

The  future  loftier  than  ere  before. 
The  future  has  been  scaled,  and  on  whose  soil 

Man's  every  shade  and  kind  attempt  to  score 
A  subtler  progress  to  him,  in  his  toil 
Of  seeking  out  the  goal  of  life's  perplexing  coil. 


XIX. 

And  here  cast  grand  in  bronze  see  Ericsson — 
An  awful  genius  of  the  modern  art 

Of  war  on  water — the  most  crafty  one 

That  ever  dreamed  of  ships.    Out  of  his  heart 
Went  forth  ideas,  which  upon  the  mart 

Of  every  land  determine  history ; 
And  as  he  did  successfully  impart 

A  tenfold  deadliness  to  strife  at  sea, 

Him  grateful  nations  praise  and  honor  lovingly. 


XX. 

And  well  does  he  deserve  their  compliments, 

For  helping  them  their  destiny  to  tread, 
With  more  improved  and  deadly  armaments, 

Though  more  expensive  than  the  people's  bread. 

But  by  the  hours  of  struggle,  which  he  made 
Bear  fruits  so  suitable  for  fame  and  glory, 

The  genius  is  most  splendidly  displayed, 
Against  the  awful  tenor  of  life's  story, 
Which  takes  such  effort  fair  to  make  its  page  more  gory. 


XXI. 

So  are  all  beings  martyred  to  the  cause 

That  calls  them  forth.     So  that  which  elevates 
Is  by  destruction,  while  we  work  the  laws 

Of  the  survival  of  the  fittest  states, 

Which  is  the  equity  that  toil  elates : 
And  kings  must  reign  though  terrible  the  cost, 

And  man  must  war  though  harmful  are  his  hates 
For  so  the  race  expands  in  being  crossed, 
And  so  it  only  gains  by  what  is  dearly  lost. 


XXII. 

Thus  Ericsson  by  aiding  us  in  evil 

Thou  aidest  progress,  which  is  our  course 

Of  least  resistance,  and  does  us  bedevil 
To  wrangle  mercilessly  in  the  force 
Of  nature,  with  deep  sorrow  and  remorse ; 

And  though  we  think  our  lives  could  be  so  spent, 
That  happiness  would  form  a  sweet  concourse 

In  all  our  living,  'tis  illusionment ; 

Since  nothing  can  be  free  from  war  and  discontent. 


XXIII. 

And  as  the  greater  is  the  discontent, 

The  greater  is  the  thing  that  it  calls  forth. 
Peace  yields  no  hero,  and  no  government, 

Nor  any  object  which  has  use  or  worth; 

And  war's  grim  crimes  must  ever  blacken  earth, 
While  making  life's  complexity  proceed ; 

And  we  must  fight  for  everything  from  birth 
To  death,  and  in  disconsolation  bleed, 
To  find  peace  after  all  where  we  no  peace  can  heed. 


XXIV. 

There  them  great  Ericsson  art  where  the  roar 

Of  battle,  and  the  moving  hosts  of  foes, 
Call  thee  to  aid  thy  fellowmen  no  more, 

By  thy  devising  what  augments  their  woes. 

There  thou  in  its  unbreakable  repose, 
Hast  not  to  bless  the  world  with  screeching  steel, 

No  further  murderous  device  expose, 
Nor  add  to  restless  commerce  flange  and  wheel, 
Which  slave  men  to  the  grave  beyond  their  woe  and  weal. 


XXV. 

But  all  this  bother  of  the  universe 

Is  the  pursuit  that  to  thy  state  doth  lead, 
From  stars  which  swing  through  kalpas  in  their  course, 

To  mites  that  live  a  second  but  to  breed; 

And  man  the  master  by  his  thought  and  deed, 
Of  all  twixt  these  extremes,  is  likewise  bound 

Upon  that  course  with  unrelenting  speed ; 
And  sometime  e'en  his  trace  shall  not  be  found    - 
In  the  quietus  of  a  sleep  secure  and  sound. 


XXVI. 

For  out  of  nebula  we  all  have  come, 

And  back  to  nebula  we  all  must  go, 
When  the  unrest,  that  brought  us  forth,  shall  drum 

Us  into  fight  no  more  with  friend  or  foe. 

The  work  of  life  is  gaining  heights  of  woe, 
O'er  which  it  must  descend  to  what  it  was ; 

And  he  who  most  does  haste  it  thus  to  do, 
And  he  who  leads  it  highest  thus  to  pass, 
He  is  the  greatest  man  of  man's  ideal  class. 


XXVII. 


Lo !  driving  through  the  water,  with  her  keel 

Unmindful  of  the  wavelets  of  the  bay, 
An  ocean  greyhound  fleet  with  lungs  of  steel 

Goes  steering  Europe-ward  her  fearless  way. 

Along  her  sharpened  bow  a  swell  of  spray 
Runs  steadily,  and  like  a  thunder-roll 

Her  horn  resounds,  while  from  her  funnels  stray 
Black  curling  streams  of  smoke,  that  in  the  bowl 
Of  heaven  wheel  and  squirm  like  some  distracted  soul. 


10 


XXVIII. 

A  host  of  people  on  her  decks  she  bears, 
And  in  her  hold  a  mine  of  merchandise. 

A  little  world  within  the  world  she  fares, 

And  to  the  port  from  which  she  came  she  flies, 
In  her  great  labor  to  commercialise 

And  populate  the  globe:  and  so  she  strives 
With  wave,  and  wind,  and  work,  to  civilize; 

And  so  assists  the  progress  of  our  lives, 

And  like  them,  buffeting  existence  out,  survives. 


XXIX. 

She  links  the  weal  of  earth's  inhabitants 
With  knowledge  of  each  other,  and  with  gold 

To  speculate  upon  each  other's  wants. 

She  finds  a  market  for  what  man  can  mould 
Out  of  his  sorrow,  that  it  may  be  sold 

To  bring  him  more.    She  colonizes  lands, 
And  fills  the  lonely  deserts  with  a  bold 

And  striving  population,  which  demands 

Civility's  increase  with  ever-grasping  hands. 


XXX. 

She  takes  the  missionary  to  the  shores 

Of  heathenism,  there  to  teach  her  laws; 
And  which  in  turn  brings  merchants  with  their  stores, 

Creating  appetites  that  swell  her  cause. 

Then  when  the  discontent  to  combat  draws. 
According  to  the  needs  of  her  design, 

She  transports  troops  and  guns,  whose  mighty  jaws 
Unquenchable  for  blood  soon  quelch  in  line 
The  wicked  heathen,  and  to  civil  modes  refine. 


XXXI. 

So  runs  the  grand  philosophy  of' ships. 

With  which  we,  not  disturbed  enough  at  home, 
Make  more  disturbance  every  clime  eclipse. 

Peace  must  not  be  'yond  any  ocean's  'foam, 

For  trouble  has  a  mania  to  roam, 
Belepering  all  who  would  have  it  not. 

Yea,  it  attempts  to  sail  the  very  dome 
Of  heaven,  searching  for  a  quiet  spot 
To  plant  its  standard  there  and  cultivate  its  lot. 


1 1 


XXXII. 

From  the  beginning,  when  the  scattered  kind 

Of  pithecanthropi  each  other  fought 
With  claws  and  cudgels,  it  was  but  to  bind 

Each  other  with  the  misery  thus  wrought. 

This  raised  them  up  to  barbarous  men,  who  sought 
In  tribes  to  clash  with  tribes  disruptingly ; 

And  chieftains  led  them  on,  until  they  brought 
The  stricter  progress  forth  of  monarchy, 
Which  pressed  them  tighter  still  in  slaving  slavery. 


XXXIII. 

What  centuries  of  pain  thus  crystallized, 
To  instruments  of  stapler  government, 

For  being  stronger  and  more  civilized, 
For  making  more  of  pain  and  discontent, 
Is  not  in  words  and  knowledge  to  present. 

But  so  tremendous  was  the  formic  force, 

That  kingdoms  still  are  strong  and  prevalent; 

And,  where  republics  seek  a  higher  course, 

The  same  conditions  they  more  stringently  rehearse. 


XXXIV. 

So  governments  do  evolutionize, 

From  simple  states  crude  in  their  means  of  strife, 
To  complex  bodies  that  can  exercise 

The  finest  manners  for  distracting  life ; 

And  from  the  stony  hatchet  and  the  knife, 
With  which  the  savage  murders  few  and  ill, 

Have  grown  the  gatlings,  that  with  power  rife 
With  certainty  stupendously  can  kill, 
And  greater  havoc  work  with  greater  force  and  skill. 


XXXV. 


This  progress  is  the  culture  of  the  race. 

For  it  by  fighting  'rose  upon  this  sphere. 
By  fighting  it  commands  its  lordly  place, 

And  only  fighting  can  detain  it  here. 

Bv  bloodshed  ever  must  it  persevere 
And  grow,  and  strengthen  for  its  pressing  needs; 

And  not  the  sympathy  of  prayer  or  tear 
Can  swerve  it  from  the  duty  of  its  deeds, 
To  make  a  hero  rise  because  a  victim  bleeds. 


XXXVI. 

And  this  new-world  metropolis,  though  framed 

For  surcease  from  the  military  rod; 
Though  to  the  hoping  emigrant  'tis  named 

The  haven,  by  no  serf  or  monarch  trod ; 

Yet  ere  his  eyes  detect  the  blessed  god 
Of  Liberty,  that  lightens  up  the  bay, 

Between  two  forts  of  masonry  a,nd  sod 
With  bristling  guns  bedecked  his  ship  makes  way, 
And  there  two  more  loom  up  and  awful  walls  display. 


XXXVII. 

He  hears  the  bugles  call  and  cannon  boom, 

Before  he  has  a  chance  to  kiss  the  soil, 
That  drew  his  weary  soul  so  far  from  nome, 

In   seeking  for  release  from  madding  toil. 

Beneath  the  lash  of  sovereigns  and  the  moil 
Of  arms  oppressing.     Yet  he  still  may  think 

That  these  are  but  defenses  not  to  foil 
His  hungry  stomach  of  its  food  and  drink. 
Alas,  poor  fellow,  at  such  useful  things  to  wink ! 


XXXVIII. 

For  never  were  such  things  more  necessary, 

And  never  were  they  made  so  craftily ; 
And  here  thou  shalt  be  burdened  them  .to  carry, 

Upon  thy  back  of  want  and  poverty ; 

And  here  thou  shalt  have  no  more  liberty, 
Than  in  the  fatherland  which  thou  hast  flown; 

And  here  thou  shalt  not  be  allowed  to  see 
The  peace    that  thou  hast  longed  so  hard  to  own; 
For  it  is  elsewhere  still  and  still  shall  beck  thee  on. 


XXXIX. 

This  shore  no  pang  nor  ailment  thee  shall  spare, 

Nor  save  thee  from  one  twinge  of  bitterness. 
Thou  dost  assume  not  less  but  more  of  care, 

In  daring  new  occasions  to  possess. 

For  striving  after  more  extensiveness, 
And  climbing  after  more  ideal  weal, 

Thy  penalty  must  be  the  wretchedness 
Their  grave  responsibilities  to  feel, 
With  nagging  obstacles  and  stubborn  trusts  to  deal. 


XL. 


Mount  as  thou  wilt  within  this  commonwealth, 

From  drudgery  for  meager  crust  of  bread, 
To  offices  of  affluence  and  stealth, 

The  punishment  shall  still  be  on  thy  head, 

To  be  more  cultivated,  and  be  bled,  - 
And  victimized  with  all  the  heinousness, 

That  shall  suffice  thy  purposes  to  spread. 
Yea,  thou  shalt  not  escape  the  least  distress, 
That  can  improve  thee  thus  for  still  more  keen  success. 


XLI. 

For  here  as  everywhere  the  fit  survive, 

And  here  the  unfit  perish  properly. 
Those  who  succeed  on  others'  loss  must  thrive, 

And  thou  from  this  great  rule  of  history 

Art  not  exempt,  no !  neither  is  the  fly 
Nor  is  the  grandest  nation  of  the  earth ; 

And  thou  the  same  as  they  must  live  and  die, 
According  to  thy  merits  and  thy  worth, 
Which  are  determined  for  thee  from  thy  very  birth. 


XLII. 

There  is  a  fate  in  everything  that  is, — 
A  limit  which  it  can  not  overreach, 

And  a  design  which  it  can  not  repress. 

The  lines  that  are  pursued  and  lived  by  each 
Are  lines  of  greatest  traction,  upon  which 

We  have  to  go;  and  though  we  love  to  say 

That  we  are  free  to  think,  and  act,  and  preach ; 

'Tis  a  delusion,  and  no  other  way 

Is  there  to  be  than  be  as  being  must  obey. 


XLIII. 

Oh,  freedom !  dream  of  poet  martyr  sage ! 

Thou  blest  ideal  of  enhampered  mind ! 
How  do  we  yearn  to  greet  thee  in  an  age, 

When  man  shall  not  be  forced  to  treat  unkind 

His  fellow  man ;  when  gold  no  more  shall  blind 
Us  in  the  rush,  and  crush  of  preservation ; 

When  discords  no  more  shall  the  honor  bind 
Of  individual,  and  state,  and  nation ; 
When  poverty  and  war  shall  wreak  no  desolation. 


XLIV. 


How  do  we  in  our  strained  condition  long 
To  found  empires,  where  thou  can'st  prevail ; 

Against  these  heartless  stigmas  of  the  tongue, 
These  rank  diseases  with  which  we  must  ail, 
These  kings  and  cabinets  for  which  we  quail, 

These  businesses  of  art  and  merchandise, 
That  tax  our  brains  and  all  our  peace  assail ! 

How  do  we  long  to  see  thy  paradise, 

And  there  forever  dwell  where  pains  no  more  chastise ! 


XLV. 

Have  great  men  suffered  not  enough  of  woe, 

To  snatch  thee  from  the  realm  of  imagry, 
And  make  the  practical  for  us  to  know  ? 

Did  bleeding  Bruno  die  in  vain  for  thee  ? 

Were  Cicero's  thunderbolts  a  nullity 
To  make  thy  advent?  and  had  Thomas  Paine 

Not  thoughts  and  virtues  sweet  enough  to  buy 
Thy  properties  for  us  ?    Alas  !  the  strain 
A  pismire  suffers  were  at  meet  thee  to  obtain. 


XLVL 

Thou  art  a  fancy  which  we  all  must  have; 

And  he  who  with  the  greatest  wisdom  soars, 
And  he  who  with  the  greatest  deeds  is  brave, 

Are  just  as  weak  to  bring  thee  to  the  shores 

Of  this  tumultuous  boisterous  world  of  ours, 
As  are  the  meanest  brute  and  meanest  man, 

That  care  no  more  for  passing  out  life's  hours 
Than  to  get  bellys  full,  and  basely  span 
The  passage  easiest  that  rounds  their  beings  plan. 


XLVIL 


Aye,  for  the  genius  that  has  been  and  is — 

The  warriors  and  the  thinkers,  who  have  pressed 

The  world  to  tighter  living  depths  of  this 
Belabored  age;  we  owe  not  times  more  blest, 
For  they  are  adders  unto  our  unrest, 

By  their  inventions  and  ideas  grand. 
We  owe  them  rather  times  more  deep  distressed. 

For  every  progress,  that  they  gave  the  land, 

Is  but  another  burden  with  which  it  must  stand. 


XLVIII. 

Tis  in  the  evolution  of  the  race, 

That  it  must  grow  more  complex ;  and  the  deeds 
That  help  it  most  in  such  augmenting  pace, 

They  are  the  most  esteemed.    Thus  trouble  speeds, 

Which  by  our  efforts  and  increasing  needs 
We  cater  to  the  future ;  and  thus  those, 

Whom  we  give  birth  to,  shall  reap  more  proceeds 
Of  life's  coacervating  cares  and  woes, 
As  on  from  stage  to  stage  the  fruitful  process  goes. 


XLIX. 

I  seek  to  say  the  truth,  though  it  offend ; 

Though  I  be  shunned  for  saying  what  is  true, 
Because  it  is  not  wished.    We  love  to  spend 

Imagination  on  a  pleasant  view 

And  dupe  ourselves  with  lies  that  tickling  mew 
Us  from  reality.     We  hate  to  bare 

The  hideous  maladies  that  we  eschew, 
Yet  carry  in  our  persons  everywhere, 
Like  cowards  running  from  a  foe  which  will  not  spare. 


Away  with  the  hypocrisy  and  cant, 

The  scoundrelism  and  iniquity, 
Which  teach  Utopias  where  mortals  want 

No  longer  any  sweet  felicity; 

When  science  shows,  that  where  pain  can  not  be, 
Life  can  not  have  existence ;  and  that  where 

Existence  prospers,  'tis  by  agony; 
And  that  where  people  feel  no  loads  of  care 
Is  in  the  grave,  because  existence  is  not  there ! 


LI. 


Mine  is  the  bible  of  the  discontent 

Of  everything  that  is.    Mine  is  the  creed 
Of  right  by  might,  of  progress  by  dissent; 

And  though  the  cause  I  argue  for  and  plead 

Is  so  unpopular,  that  none  will  read 
Its  strong  philosophy;  why,  what  care  I? 

My  being  here  is  thus  to  do  the  deed, 
Though  flatterers  gain  popularity, 
Which  will  be  naught  to  them  as  it  is  naught  to  me. 


i6 


LII. 


I  have  no  knowledge  to  alleviate 

What  has  to  be  endured ;  and  so  I  make 
No  loud  pretenses  like  the  quacks,  who  prate 

About  the  nostrums  they  concoct  to  fake. 

I  hold  no  paltry  promises  to  break. 
I  have  no  other  object  men  to  draw, 

Than  that  this  scheme  wherein  all  beings  shake, 
Does  in  some  manner  manifest  some  law. 
Whereby  I  think  and  sing  as  I  am  doing  now. 


LIII. 

So  ye  who  list  to  me  in  Battery  Park, 

Who  come  here  wanderers  upon  the  road 

That  from  the  darkness  leads  back  to  the  dark ; 
Who  wear  the  sorrow  and  who  bear  the  load 
Of  civilization,  which  does  temot  and  goad 

Ye  on  into  more  stringent  combination, — 
Stained  to  the  marrow  with  the  biting  woad, 

Of  disappointment  and  of  aspiration — 

Hear  me  no  more  for  my,  than  for  the  truth's,  vocation. 


LIV. 

Since  ye  were  born  ye  have  devised  and  schemed, 

For  what  ye  thought  delight  and  happiness. 
Your  sad,  benighted  spirits  hard  have  dreamed 

For  days  of  rapture  and  surprising  bliss ; 

As  ever  groping  through  this  wilderness 
Of  thorns,  and  brackish  springs,  and  stifling  air, 

Ye  thus  far  have  proceeded ;  still  to  miss 
The  realizing  of  the  debonair, 
That  always  as  a  mirage  drew  ye  worse  to  fare. 


LV. 


Now  marriage,  like  a  damsel  pure  and  glad, 

Has  stood  before  in  shining  raiment  dressed ; 
And  smiled  divinely  as  ye  struggled  mad, 

To  clasp  the  holy  angel  to  your  breast, 

And  gain  her  dulcet  long-desired  rest. 
Alas !  ye  touch  her  and  she  mortal  turns, 

If  fortune  favors  with  success  your  quest ; 
And  all  her  love  and  beauty  prove  concerns 
For  bringing  offspring  forth  that  in  your  same  fate  burns. 


LVI. 

Now  fame  has  lured  ye  with  its  splendor  grand. 

It  gave  ye  visions  of  its  blessings  couth, 
And  how  enrapturing  it  is  to  stand 

And  be  admired,  worshipped,  praised,  foresooth. 

Ye  followed  it  through  labyrinths  of  truth, 
Through  battle  flame,  and  through  affairs  of  state, 

Which  wrenched  from  ye  the  precious  years  of  youth. 
Perchance  ye  gained  it,  but  ye  found  too  late 
That  it  was  empty  of  what  it  portended  great. 


LVII. 

Now  wealth  before  your  burning  eyes  did  hold 

The  envies  of  seclusion,  power,  cash. 
Ye  thought  how  useful  and  how  good  is  gold. 

With  which  to  wheedle,  kindly  win,  or  lash 

The  world  into  your  will ;  and  ye  did  clash 
With  projects,  intrigues  and  conspiracies, 

Until  a  few  did  gain  the  cursed  trash ; 
Which  hectored  them  in  sore  perplexities, 
And  gave  their  souls  no  shadow  of  its  promised  ease. 


LVIII. 

Now  wisdom  made  ye  crave  its  rosy  dawn, 
And  say,  There  is  no  pleasure  but  in  knowing ; 

And  so  through  mist  and  mire  ye  followed  on, 
And  sought  its  light,  as  ever  further  going 
It  glimmered  hopefully  its  bliss  foreshowing. 

Alas !  for  all  its  elegance  and  charm, 
Which  brought  ye  through  vast  centuries  of  growing, 

Ye  scarce  can  grasp  one  cheerful  beam,  and  warm 

With  it  your  lightless  minds  that  stood  for  it  such  harm. 


LIX. 

Thus  through  the  past  have  ye  been  ever  fooled, 
To  hunt  for  what  made  merely  misery ; 

And  so  your  fate  in  such  a  round  has  ruled, 
That  ye  should  wander  on  until  ye  see 
The  point  from  which  ye  started  eagerly. 

Ye  could  not  help  pursuing  what  ye  loved, 
And  ye  can  not  evade  the  destiny, 

In  which  ye  thus  must  work  and  on  be  moved, 

Till  ye  complete  the  scheme  your  destiny  approved. 


18 


LX. 

As  worlds  solidify  to  burst  in  gas 

From  which  they  came,  so  does  humanity 

Contract  to  stapler  states  that  it  may  pass 
To  what  it  was.    We  see  in  history 
When  tribes  have  reached  a  certain  unity, 

They  overcome  their  neighbors ;  and  they  grow 
A  higher  body  of  civility, 

As  monarchy,   in  which  they  undergo 

The  process  further  and  to  higher  states  conflow. 


LXI. 

This  strife  in  man,  to  have  more  density, 

Shall  sometimes  make  him  such  a  brittle  thing, 
That  he  shall  break  to  perish ;  for  as  he 

Becomes  more  rigid  in  his  ordering, 

And  more  complex  in  his  requiring, 
He  shall  become  more  delicate  to  crack ; 

And  as  he  strains  in  tighter  states  to  cling, 
And  as  he  gains  in  faculty  and  knack 
For  clashing  stern  in  war,  he  shall  not  scape  his  wrack. 


LXII. 

E'en  as  the  individual  is  led 

To  seek  for  fame  and  wisdom,  wealth  and  love, 
And  only  find  the  stilly  grave  instead  ; 

So  is  a  nation  led  to  upward  move 

For  glory,  conquest,  art,  till  it  does  prove 
Their  vanities  by  its  disintegration ; 

And  so  all  things,  as  it  does  them  behoove, 
Are  bound  upon  a  mighty  destination, 
Back  to  the  nebula  of  their  origination. 


LXIII. 

And  are  all  these  contusions  and  afflictions, 
^  These  trials  and  disasters  of  the  race, 
Spent  for  an  end  that  has  no  benedictions 
More  fit  for  it  to  enter  on  and  face, 
Than  mixing  up  again  in  boundless  space, 
With  all  the  matter  of  the  universe? 

Must  we  be  shocked  back  to  our  starting  place, 
And  in  thin  mist  o'er  bournless  tracts  disperse, 
After  such  effort  spent  life's  hardships  to  traverse? 


LXIV. 


Yes ;  as  each  one  goes  down  into  the  tomb, 
And  mingles  with  the  elements  again 

From  which  he  started  in  his  mother's  womb, 
So  all  men  must  the  silent  grade  attain, 
Out  of  whose  equilibrium  the  strain 

Of  cosmos  drove  them,  in  the  exodus 
Of  life ;  as  it  drove  heaven's  awful  train 

Of  suns  and  planets  swinging  monstrous, 

And  powerfully  vast  to  draw  them  back  with  us. 


LXV. 

Oh!  what  a  scene  is  here  for  reverie, 

To  him  whose  mind  can  history  unfold, 
To  him  who  has  the  faculty  to  see 

The  dispositions  of  the  new  and  old ! 

The  earth  another  station  does  not  hold 
So  rife  with  meaning,  in  the  march  of  man ; 

And  his  imagination  must  be  cold, 
And  dead  must  be  his  sense,  who  here  can  scan, 
And  not  glow  fervid  with  the  thoughts  of  life's  great  plan. 


LXVL 

There  lies  the  sea  'yond  which  the  old  world  lies, 
The  old  world's  continents,  where  man  so  long 

Squeezed  in  theocracies,  and  monarchies, 
And   harlotocracies,   experienced   wrong : — 
Arousing  himself  now  and  waxing  strong, 

In  art,  and  science,  and  philosophy ; 
In  souls  of  heroism,  and  of  song; 

And  lapsing  now  in  lust  and  slavery, 

Fanaticism  and  conventionality. 


LXVII. 

There  has  he  segregated  into  nations, 

Which  have  so  complex  grown,  that  into  one 
They  do  not  mix  and  form  new  combinations, 

Whereby  they  can  to  newer  forms  go  on. 

But  here  for  such  a  further  stepping  stone 
In  the  ascent  of  flesh,  a  fertile  shore 

Awaited  him;  and  here  is  being  done 
The  operation  higher  to  explore, 
Uniting  every  race  to  form  the  great  race  power. 


20 


LXVIII. 

And  pain  is  the  promoter  of  the  scheme. 

The  force  behind  compelling  it  along; 
And  happiness  before  stands  with  its  dream, 

And  coaxes  winsomely,  and  urges  strong. 

Pain  with  its  inquisition,  halter,  prong, 
Had  prodded  and  is  prodding  them  away ; 

While  happiness  leads  with  its  siren  song, 
And  gorgeous,  and  fantastical  display, 
The  victims  from  the  old  into  the  new  world's  day. 


LXIX. 

As  the  best  blood  comes  most  to  persecution, 

America  has  drawn  the  earth's  best  blood, 
With  which  to  found  a  vaster  institution 

Than  ever  yet  in  history  has  stood; 

And  as  the  best  dream  loftiest  of  good, 
Because  they  suffer  disappointments  most, 

And  work  the  hardest  to  be  free  from  feud, 
This  law  is  a  selecter  for  our  coast, 
Of  those  who  fittest  are  to  number  in  its  host. 


LXX. 

Those  who  came  first  laid  surest  the  foundation, 

On  which  the  structure  still  is  rising  high ; 
And  never  yet  did  mortals  found  a  nation, 

Who  had  more  aptness  and  ability 

Than  they  did  have ;  for  see  what  agony 
Did  test  and  sift  them  out  to  dare  the  wave, 

And  settle  where  cut  from  humanity 
They  had  fierce  hunger,  sickness,  foes  to  brave, 
That  they  might  be  no  haughty  monarch's  conscience-slave. 


LXXI. 

Butchered,  and  robbed,  and  outraged  over  there, 

Beneath  the  heartless  fist  of  royalty, 
They  heard  that  westward  lay  a  region,  where 

From  crushing  tyrants  they  could  all  be  free ; 

Where  nature  breathed  a  kind  tranquility 
O'er  boundless  plains,  rich  in  the.  vegetation 

Of  healthful  climates;  where  they  longed  to  be, 
And  live  out  their  ideal  cult  and  nation, 
And  be  no  more  oppressed  by  want  and  depredation. 


21 


LXXII. 

Here  would  they  drink  springs  of  eternal  youth, 

And  never  know  the  blights  and  moils  of  age. 
Here  would  the  fruits  and  seeds  of  fields  grow  couth, 

Uncursed  by  vampirism's  sulliage. 

Here  no  hard  wars  would  frown  for  them  to  wage. 
But  in  the  shadow  of  luxuriant  bowers 

Would  they  be  free  to  worship,  and  engage 
In  the  pursuits  that  gladden  life's  fleet  hours; 
And  all  the  world  to  them  would  be  a  path  of  flowers. 


LXXIII. 


So  shone  the  future  when  they  started  forth, 

In  tossing  ships  to  cross  the  boisterou.s  sea. 
They  came  and  colonized  our  hostile  earth, 

And  reared  their  offspring  of  adversity. 

They  found  a  howling  wilderness,  to  be 
The  land  so  sweetly  in  their  visions  drawn. 

They  found  worse  labor  and  calamity 
Than  reigned  within  the  place  \vhence  they  had  gone. 
But  all  the  while  they  hoped,  which  kept  them  living  on. 


LXXIV. 

Their  axes  in  the  virgin  forests  rang, 

And  cleared  plantations  for  the  plow  and  hoe. 

Their  hammers  upon  barren  beaches  sang, 
And  raised  up  busy  cities,  while  the  flow 
Of  emigrants  continued  still  to  grow. 

They  beat  the  savage  back,  they  founded  schools, 
Built  roads  and  churches,  and  expanded  so 

On  new-world  opportunities  and  rules, 

That  they  became  yet  more  life's  civilizing  tools. 


LXXV. 

For  lo !  the  mother-country  whose  distress 
Created  them,  now  on  their  burdens  tied 

A  grewsome  tax,  that  harder  did  oppress 
These  poor  endeavorers,  who  well  had  tried 
The  freedom  which  was  still  to  be  denied. 

But  lo !  the  pain  that  drove  them  scattered  forth, 
Did  now  unite  them  in  one  mighty  tide ; 

And  they  arose,  and  higher  notched  their  worth, 

And  gave  America  a  new  triumphant  birth. 


LXXVI. 

And  they  asserted  that  a  government, 

From  those  it  governs  has  its  just  consent. 

They  instituted  the  fair  argument 
That  of  the  truths  which  are  self-evident, 
All  men  have  rights  unto  the  broad  extent 

Of  life,  and  liberty,  and  happiness. 
Thus  to  them  came  democracy's  event, 

Which  promised  freedom  from  the  wickedness 

Of  tyrants',  kings'  and  peers'  debasing  faultiness. 


LXXVII. 

Oh,  sweet  and  holy  name,  democracy ! 

How  after  they  were  burnt,  and  hacked,  and  gnawed, 
In  the  fierce  clutches  of  autocracy ; 

How  after  they  were  outcast  and  outlawed 

Upon  a  shore  far  from  their  native  sod; 
How  after  they  were  persecuted  here 

With  troops,  and  taxes,  and  decrees  o'erawed ; 
How  did  thy  prospect  give  them  lofty  cheer, 
And  show  them  glistening  worlds  of  bliss  in  every  tear ! 


LXXVIII. 

It  was  for  thee  they  had  been  suffering, 

With  heartless  rulers  in  dominions  old. 
It  was  for  thee  they  had  been  buffeting, 

With  savages,  and  want,  and  winters  cold. 

It  was  for  thee  they  strengthened  and  grew  bold, 
And  broke  the  chains  of  vassalage  to  kings ; 

And  in  thy  light  they  thought  to  dwell  and  mould 
A  happy  era,  of  the  precious  things 
They  loved  and  dearly  bought  with  blood  and  sorrowings. 


LXXIX. 

But  hast  thou  been  to  them  that  healing  balm, 

Abolishing  political  afflictions? 
And  hast  thou  been  to  them  that  magic  calm, 

Distributing  concordant  benedictions? 

And  hast  thou  torn  the  shackles  and  restrictions, 
Of  indigence  and  kingdoms  from  their  hands? 

And  hast  thou  loosed  the  baleful  interdictions 
Of  pain,  and  war,  and  pillage  from  their  lands? 
No !  thou  hast  not  removed  what  still  life's  growth  demands. 


LXXX. 

To-day  we  are  as  far  away  from  thee, 

To-day  thou  art  to  us  as  grandly  fair, 
As  when  thou  did'st  allure  them  o'er  the  sea, 

As  when  to  form  a  nation  they  did  dare; 

And  we  are  now  no  freer  from  the  care 
Of  any  ill  and  thorn  that  harrowed  them, 

For  all  the  anathemas  they  did  bear, 
For  all  the  scoundrelism  they  did  stem, 
For  all  the  bad  against  which  they  did  stratagem. 


LXXXI. 

But  to  the  problems,  which  they  had  to  solve, 

We  have  the  added  problems,  which  have  come 
With  more  complexity.     The  years  revolve 

With  nations,  as  with  persons,  while  they  roam 

Toward  ideals  that  forever  loom 
Beyond  their  reach.    One  grows  not  old  with  joy, 

But  sorrow  and  its  duties  troublesome. 
They  were  the  nation's  baby,  and  its  boy. 
We  are  the  nation's  men,  and  must  more  care  employ. 


LXXXII.    - 

The  man  is  menaced  with  a  thousand  harms 

The  baby  could  not  dream  of.     So  our  state 
Is  full  of  fierce  commotions,  and  the  storms 

Of  money,  bribery,  mobs,  bonds,  scandals  great 

Which  they  had  no  ability  to  rate. 
And  as  the  individual  is  pressed 

By  what  his  country  has  to  tolerate, 
So  individuals  are  more  distressed 
Than  ever  in  the  past  the  past  did  men  molest. 


LXXXIII. 

And  we  have  greater  evils  now  than  kings, 

And  greater  objects  than  religious  zeal, 
Which  economics  to  our  knowledge  brings, 

And  which  with  endless  problems  have  to  deal ; 

But  trusting  to  the  future  that  we  feel 
Will  bring  us  all  the  peace  and  happiness 

Of  all  the  benizons  of  civil  weal, 
By  hope  encouraged  futureward  we  press, 
And  bear  the  sting  and  strife  of  present  storm  and  stress. 


LXXXIV. 

Oh,  man !  strong  hoper  after  liberty, 
In  every  tempting  and  attracting  shape ! 

Oh,  man  !  strong  sufferer  of  slavery, 

From  which  thy  poor  soul  cannot  make  escape, 
Though  it  does  pester,  lacerate  and  rape 

Thee  into  efforts  frantic  for  surcease ! 

Thou  art  not  in  a  more  perplexing  scrape, 

Than  universe  itself  which  seeks  for  peace, 

And,  like  thee,  agonizes  after  its  release. 


LXXXV. 

And  now  that  night  has  swallowed  up  the  day, 

And  hid  this  hemisphere  from  solar  beams; 
Behold  the  twinkling  systems  as  they  lay, 

Gyrating  in  abysmal  milky  streams, 

Bediamonding  the  sky  in  lacy  schemes 
Of  finery  so  ponderous  and  vast, 

That  all  the  reach  of  thy  divinest  dreams 
Has  never  yet  their  destiny  surpassed, 
Nor  found  a  greater  end  than  that  for  which  they  last. 


LXXXVI. 

For  all  these  spheres  of  striving  matter  bound, 

In  wheeling  and  elliptical  unrest, 
In  phases  so  complex  and  so  compound, 

Are  on  thy  same  inevitable  quest. 

These  mighty  volumes  in  their  huge  contest, 
Forced  by  compulsion  by  attraction  drawn, 

Are  thy  companions  in  the  bondage  pressed, 
For  which  thou  dost  to  liberty  march  on. 
The  fate  that  limits  them  and  limits  thee  is  one. 


LXXXVII. 

They  pass  through  fiery  aeons,   suffering 

And  spurning  up  each  other  in  the  toil 
Of  finding  quiet.    They  endure  the  sting 

Of  revolutions  and  augmenting  moil  . 

Of  rearrangements,  as  they  maze  and  coil 
In    monstrous   tremendous    adaptations, 

To  better  meet  repulsion's  nagging  foil. 
They  pass  though  changes  like  our  tribes  and  nations, 
Desiring  their  rest  in  further  transmutations. 


LXXXVIII. 


And  while  they  in  such  grand  contortions  swing, 
The  rhythms  that  they  make  is  harmony, 

As  man  does  by  his  sorrow  sweetly  sing. 
For  music  is  the  quest  of  liberty, 
And  action  has  through  all  eternity 

Expressed  itself  in  soothing  strains  of  song. 
The  world  's  a  poet,  which  melodiously 

Does  pour  its  soul  against  the  blight  of  wrong, 

And  for  the  peace  whereto  it  is  pursuaded  strong. 


LXXXIX. 


Oh,  music !  blessed  speaker  of  the  mind 

In  all  its  yearnings  after  happiness ! 
Thou  holy  balm  for  bruised  humankind, 

In  life's  beclouded,  arid   wilderness! 

How  do  we  tremble  for  the  stream  of  bliss, 
Which  thou  dost  gush  before  our  thirsty  eyes ! 

How  do  we  shake  to  feel  thy  dulcet  kiss, 
Which  welcomes  us  toward  the  paradise, 
Where  there  are  love  and  rest  unmarred  by  grievances  ! 


XC. 


Thy  pleasing  sounds  now  fall  upon  my  ears, 
Mellowed  and  softened  by  the  evening  breeze, 

Which  scatters  them  against  the  heavenly  spheres, 
And  'neath  the  arches  of  perfuming  trees, 
And  o'er  the  rippling  water  to  appease 

The  sorrows  of  the  throngs  assembled  here, 
Their  tired  bodies  and  their  minds  to  ease, 

With  thy  discourses  uttered  fair  and  clear, 

To  brighten  up  the  soul  and  dry  the  bitter  tear. 


XCI. 


They  crave  thy  gladsome  message  eagerly, 
To  comfort  them  against  the  noisy  times 

Of  business  in  the  shop  and  factory, 

Against  the  hubbubs,  fallacies  and  crimes, 
Whose  travail  all  their  daily  life  begrimes. 

Thou  art  their  harbinger  of  liberty 

From  every  grewsome  task.     Thy  note  sublimes 

Them  into  every  precious  ecstacy 

That  thou  canst  conjure  up  in  unreality. 


26 


XCII. 

And  even  I,  who  know  thou  art  but  sound, 

Which  is  no  sooner  felt  than  it  is  gone, 
Must  yield  to  thy  delusion  and  propound 

The  wished-for  things,  for  which  we  all  must  run. 

Thou  movest  me  to  struggle  harder  on, 
For  benefits  that  fascinatingly 

Have  glittered  and  intensely  luscious  shone 
Before  me,  as  through  dark  adversity 
I  long  have  bickered  most  humiliatingly. 


XCIII. 

I  see  a  lavish  feast  of  liberty, 

Spread  for  the  toilers  in  thre  land  of  ours; 
And  there  are  joy  and  equanimity, 

Refreshing  endlessly  the  blithesome  hours ; 

And  there  are  carnivals  and  palmy  bowers 
Of  fair  delights,  that  every  one  may  have; 

And  there  no  more  calamity  devours, 
Nor  are  there  cruel  perils  we  must  brave, 
Nor  vain  delusions  which  do  mock  us  to  the  grave. 


XCIV. 

And  there  I  see  my  loved  one,  whom  the  storms 
Of  bitter  earth  had  driven  far  from  me ; 

And  I  am  welcomed  in  her  blissful  arms, 
No  more  to  roam  the  world  in  penury, 
Away  from  her  entrancing  company. 

She  smiles  the  real  maiden  of  my  dreams, 
As  graceful  as  she  ever  used  to  be, 

Ere  frenzied  by  her  charms  I  crossed  the  streams, 

Of  tempest-smitten  oceans  to  the  globe's  extremes. 


XCV. 

Oh,  love !  thus  art  thou  fair  to  meditate ! 

For  it  is  thy  concern  to  fondle  us 
And  humor  us  with  delicacies  great, 

That  we  may  make  life's  process  prosperous, 

To  carry  on  its  burdens  numerous ; 
E'en  as  the  thoughts  of  liberty  are  sweet, 

That  nations  may  bring  forth  more  vigorous 
And  striving  nations,  for  the  awful  feat 
That  destiny  decrees  and  plans  they  shall  complete. 


XCVL 

Alas,  poor  man,  in  love  and  liberty 
To  be  so  wheedled  into  thy  own  gain ; 

And  in  thy  gain  to  be  so  wretchedly 
Distracted  for  the  very  sense  of  pain, 
Augmented  to  a  more  deranging  strain, 

Which  thou  didst  have  before !    Yet  thou  hast  not 
The  will  another  system  to  ordain, 

Wherein  thy  soul  can  have  a  joyous  lot, 

And  never  have  a  woe  'gainst  which  to  counterplot. 


XCVII. 

Thy  life  is  like  a  schooner  on  a  sea, 

Which  for  the  roaring  wind  is  homeward  bound. 
Without  the  wind  the  schooner  would  not  be. 

Thy  difficulties  brought  thee  from  the  ground, 

They  send  thee  through  thy  sad  tumultuous  round, 
And  they  shall  bring  thee  with  the  universe 

Back  to  the  equilibrium  profound, 
From  which  they  once  all  matter  did  disperse, 
Into  the  state  it  now  is  groaning  to  traverse. 


XCVIII. 

And  when  all  flesh  shall  so  its  shape  improve, 

That  it  can  no  more  rise  to  higher  form, 
Nor  crave  for  liberty  nor  long  for  love; 

To  better  it  against  surrounding  harm; 

And  when  all  matter  shall  through  cycles  swarm, 
Until  it  need  no  more  propulsion  flee, 

Nor  be  drawn  further  by  attraction's  charm ; 
Then  shall  disintegration  pacify 
The  elements  in  one  stupendous  equity. 


XCIX. 

Then  shall  the  sorrows  and  the  cares  of  life, 

With  all  its  wars,  and  heart-aches,  and  migrations, 

With  all  its  hopes  for  rest,  and  bitter  strife; 
Then  shall  the  cataclysms  and  gyrations 
Of  stars,  with  all  their  monster  perturbations, 

Be  ended  in  a  universal  peace. 
And  no  more  rude  excitements  and  motations 

Shall  break  the  equipoise  of  perfect  ease, 

And  man  shall  find  his  endless  and  well-earned  release. 


28 


C. 


Oh,  gateway  of  the  New  World !     Battery  Park ! 

Great  scene  wherein  to  muse  on  history 
Of  universe  and  man,  which  backward  hark 

In  one  tremendous  painful  destiny ! 

To  further  sing  thy  sad  philosophy 
I  cease,  for  it  is  in  the  silent  night. 

The  crowds  have  left  which  lately  covered  thee, 
And  sleep  my  weary  members  does  invite, 
And  like  the  tired  world  I  long^for  calm  respite. 


THE    END. 


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"I1T  BATTERY  PARK  contains  many  strilci 
Ella  Whee 

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ALBERT   RUPP   IDEALIZES 

THE  LORDS  OF  LIGHTNING 

AND    STEAM    AND    FIRE  || 

(By    the    Associated    Press.) 
"Lords  of  lightning-  and  steam  and  fire"  are 
they    who    manned    the    Pacific    fleet    when    it 
swept  through   the  Golden   Gate   September   1  , 
m   the  words   of  Albert   Rupp,   shipyard   poet' 
.    Kupp,  a  "bolter-up"  in  the  Moore  shipbuild^ 
ing    plant    on    the    Alameda-Oakland    estuary 
attracted  world-wide  attention  by  his  writings 
on.  war-time   ship   building. 

The    arrival    of    the    fleet    he    celebrated    in 
these    verses: 

The    Arrival   of  the    Fleet. 

By    Albert    Rupp. 
Mother   of   Oceans'   mighty   tide! 
Here,   for   thy  empire-building  pride, 
The?  Golden   Gate   is   open   wide, 

O'ercanopied    by    clouds    of    glory; 
And    here   for   a   new   immortal    day,' 
To   our   mountain-locked   magnificent    Bay 
Welcome  the    Fleet,   whose  power  shall   sway 

Our   fate   in    civilization's   story. 

Hark,  as   the    bells   in   the   steeples   ring, 
And    our    eager    millions    loudly    sino-' 
Come   in,   oh    Fleet!   and  your  blessings  bring 
I'or  the  peace  of  our  majesty  and  splendor! 
With    your    masters    of    air,    and    wizards    of 

wire; 
With  your  lords  of  lightning,  and  steam    and 

tire; 

\Voe  to  the  foe  who  dares  conspire 
To    be    our    sacred    land's    offender. 

Gallant    heroes    of    sky    and    sea! 

Guards    of    precious    liberty! 

Stalwart   sons   of  oour  homes   of  the   free 

Whose    deeds    have    filled    the    world    with 

wonder! 

Thrilled    by   the    glow    of  yolir   noble   zeal, 
Great    are    we    in    our    wealth    or   weal, 
As  ye   man   our   country's   walls   of   steel 

And    speak    for    us    with    their    throats    of 
thunder! 


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